


Lovers' Journey

by magicconchshel



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicconchshel/pseuds/magicconchshel
Summary: When Praxus is launched into political turmoil, Prowl is forced into an arranged bonding. He and Jazz must make a choice whether they should stay or go.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl (Transformers)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 73





	1. Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> heyheyheyheyheyhey  
> this is...going to be a longer work. idk how long, i have it planned out, I just don't know how long the word count will be. the updates, however, should be frequent, so look forward to that. heheheheehehehheh i hope u enjoy :)))))))

Prowl stands before the mirror in his room. In the glass, he can see himself, his bed, and window in the frame. The transparent curtains twirl in the wind. His reflection stares back at him with squared shoulders and a cape flowing behind him. He does not wear his crown, feeling as though it does not suit him. 

Jazz steps out in front of him, blocking his view from the mirror. His digits find the clasps of his cape at either side of his neck and fastens the fabric tighter. 

Prowl’s frame was decorated in shades of red, a contrast to his monochrome paint. It was a custom in Praxus to adorn oneself with colors that matched their chevron. 

Prowl was expected to be at a meeting in just a few kliks. Praxus had been thrust into a trade war with Stanix just decacycles after the passing of their previous king and at the heels of Smokescreen’s coronation. The new King and his council had been working tirelessly to work out a deal or soften the blow of this political conflict. 

Being the Prince and Smokescreen’s unofficial right-servo-mech, Prowl was required to attend these meetings. He did not mind. He did not find the meetings boring, but rather found himself enjoying the search for solutions. 

Jazz’s servos fell to Prowl’s elbows and he held him at arm’s length for a moment. Prowl raised his servo and cupped Jazz’s helm before leaning in for a kiss. 

He walked him to the hall where there were advisors loitering about in front of the entrance. Prowl left him before heading inside and finding his seat on a pedestal next to his brother. 

The hall was arranged in a circle. The Council sat around the King and there was a platform in the middle to deliver speeches on. Everyone had a marble writing desk in front of them and there were often paper and quills provided. Above them, there were cubicles for scribes to write down what was said and guards placed with them to eliminate any chances of political enemies sniping them from above. 

The King’s perch looked more like a throne. There were crystal shards sticking out from the sides that would change color depending on how the light reflected. It would change throughout the day, the lights in the dome of the ceiling allowed the sun to shine in. Right now, it was green.

The rest of The Council filed in and took their seats. One council member, a part of the military operations division, took hold of the meeting, stepping out onto the platform and delivering a speech. 

“Military Operations has called this meeting today to discuss recent findings reported by a scouting troop on the east side of the border. Stanix has been spotted placing military troops on the borders of their territory. Our scouts spotted soldiers pitching what looked to be long-term tents and storing weapons, as well as shipment carts with various other supplies being towed to these remote bases. This has never been seen before from Stanix. Given our recent stalemate with them, there is reason to believe that they are preparing for violent conflict.”

The advisor stepped away from the platform and resumed his seat, leaving the floor open to suggestions or solutions. 

One advisor rose, “This trade war has gone on long enough. I, and many others, believe that Stanix will not relent anytime soon. It is time we resort to methods of greater certainty, rather than the peaceful negotiations we have tried in the past. The quickest way to bridge the gap between our nations would be to join families in union. Stanix’s royal family is vast. They likely have a prince or princess of age who is unbonded.”

At the last sentence, Prowl’s spark jumped. Prowl has long since realized that this trade war with Stanix would not end without struggle. As much as he hated to admit it, this council member had a point. An arranged bonding would be the quickest way to end any political turmoil. Historically, these types of bondings had ended wars or multi-generational rivalries. 

He had, however, not realized that the situation had gotten this dire. Had The Council really exhausted all other resources?

As the meeting continued, Prowl felt as though the other advisors were staring at him, like he was a precious gem. They wanted him. It felt like he was on display at a shop, sitting pretty for passersby to ogle at him. 

But no. It was not their decision, it was Smokescreen’s. While that is a comforting thought, it would be much more comforting to say that the decision is Prowl’s and Prowl’s alone. Though as a Prince, that is one privilege he is not privy to. 

* * *

Prowl trudged through the hallways on the way back to his personal wing. Smokescreen walked beside him, a slight bow in his back. 

“They  _ cannot  _ do this,” Prowl insists. “I am not an object to be given away to a stranger. I cannot be bought nor pawned. I’m not an  _ asset _ .”

“I agree,” Smokescreen said. 

Prowl bursts, “If the advisors vote against us, we’ll be  _ powerless _ .”

With a sigh, Smokescreen stopped and held out his servos, palms facing Prowl. His back was straight and wings poised once more. 

“I am aware and I agree with the things you are saying. But keep in mind, this is only a suggestion. The Council is right to consider all possibilities to end this conflict. Nothing is set in stone.”

Prowl deflated slightly at that. 

“There’s nothing more we can do right now,” he said softer. “Go, get some rest, and try not to think about it. I’ll see you tomorrow”

* * *

That night, Prowl lied awake in bed, his frame smooth and barren of armor or decorative jewelry. His room was silent and still, but his helm was muddied. 

The stillness remained when Jazz slipped inside. The door did not utter a sound as he entered. Prowl’s only notification that he had arrived were the quiet steps he heard approaching from behind. Jazz made them audible on purpose, so he didn’t scare Prowl. 

Prowl rolled over and watched Jazz approach his berth. “Are you here to guard me tonight?”

“I am,” Jazz said. He took a seat on the edge of the berth, waving away the silky curtains that hung from the posts at the corners of his berth.

Jazz, unlike the other guards, preferred to watch over Prowl from the inside of his room. It’s safer that way, he would tell the other guards. 

When asked if he would allow the other guards inside his room while he recharged, Prowl would reply no, he would only accept Jazz to protect him in that way. 

“Have you heard about the meeting?” Prowl asked. 

“I have.”

“What do you think?”

“It’s not good. Not ideal.”

“I will not go through with any politically motivated bondings. I’ve never liked them. It’s a barbaric tradition. The Council should be able to come up with some other solution than to give me away to a foreign land.”

Jazz smiled. “That’s what I expected you to say. I don’t expect you to go through with anything you don’t want to.”

“Yes, but The Council does. They have the power to override Smokescreen’s decision.”

“What would happen if you were to refuse to go?”

“I’m not sure. If the consequences were dire enough, The Council may turn against me entirely. I already suspect they’re already trying to get rid of me for good. I may be pulled from the palace by force. They may even make you do it.”

Jazz leaned into Prowl, resting on his side. “I would never betray you like that. I would betray the kingdom before going against you.”

“You may not have a choice.”

“Don’t think so harshly. The Council has not called for a vote on this. Everything will be fine.”

Prowl huffed a sigh that came out more exaggerated than he intended. He took the blanket in his servo and lifted it. 

“Will you recharge with me?” he asked. 

Jazz agreed and crawled under the blanket with him, still wearing his armor. Prowl settled around him, helms pressed against each other’s. Despite Jazz’s bulky armor, Prowl was able to wind an arm around his middle and wedge a leg between his knees. This was always their preferred way of recharging. 


	2. The Proposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u to everyone who read the last chapter, I hope u like this one and I will keep updates consistent

The reports never stopped coming in. Every day there was a new development and every day The Council would tie themselves into even tighter knots over it. They dismissed the scouts and sent spies to take their place and received even more intel on the situation. 

Not that Prowl was ever briefed on the situation. Smokescreen and his advisors had kept their recent meetings a secret from him and everyone else in the palace. They would hole up in a tiny meeting room packed with more advisors than there was space for. Servants had started bringing their evening energon to the room so they could refuel while discussing plans. 

One night, halfway through dinner with his brothers, a messenger entered the room with another letter. He handed it to Smokescreen and left promptly. 

Prowl eyed the envelope sitting on the corner of the table by his brother’s elbow and watched Smokescreen as he picked it up and thumbed it open. The tri-fold paper split open and his optics scanned the writing. 

“What does it say?” Prowl asked. 

Bluestreak watched them both. 

With a heavy servo, Smokescreen set the paper down on the table, “Same as always,” he said. “Enemy camps appear to be setting up in a strategic position. They’re spreading out evenly across the border.”

That night, when was Prowl getting ready for recharge, he did so with looming guilt over his helm. He knew the advisors were planning his arranged bonding. With whom, he did not know. He was not sure if he wanted to know. 

As a Prince, it was his duty to do what was right for his kingdom. Technically, he never accepted the position, but he still felt it was his payment of sorts for the overwhelming privilege he was born into. After all, Smokescreen had accepted the crown and its responsibility at such a young age, as was his duty as the eldest Prince. Surely an arranged bonding would be much less demanding than that. 

If Prowl were to accept the bonding without question, he could ease some of Smokescreen’s stress. Granted, there would likely be bigger issues in the future that Prowl would be powerless to help with, but for now, it might be enough to simply accept his fate. 

While in berth, he wondered about what life would be like if he were to bond to a prince or princess from Stanix. He hoped he liked them. Or tolerated them. They would most likely have to share a berth. He had never done that with anyone other than Jazz. 

Would he live with them, or would they live with him? If he was made to leave Praxus, he at least hoped he would be able to keep Jazz. Maybe, depending on Stanix’s customs, he could take Jazz as a concubine. It would provide a cover story for them to spend time together and recharge together. Jazz would have to give up his knightly duties, which he wasn’t sure he could ask Jazz to do, but it might be worth a shot. 

* * *

The next cycle, Jazz found Prowl holed up in the palace’s library. He sat in a plush chair, hunched over a book. 

Jazz approached him and set his helmet on a side table across from where Prowl sat. “What are you reading?”

Prowl did not look up from the book. “A passage on Stanix’s history and customs.”

“Yeah? What are you reading that for?”

“Since Smokescreen and his advisors are fixated on preventing war, I figured it would be best for me to do some reading on Stanix’s culture. I want to be prepared for any outcome.”

Jazz took a seat on the edge of the chair beside the table. “There isn’t any guarantee this will happen. It was just a proposition. You shouldn’t let paranoia get the best of you.”

“I am not paranoid. I am being realistic. I need to be prepared.”

“I know.” Jazz softened. He stood up and stopped next to Prowl, laying a servo on his shoulder. “But try to lighten up a little. Just take things slow. It’ll all work out.”   
  


The letters never stopped. Smokescreen was pulled into meetings daily. Sometimes they would stretch on for hours. The King was hardly ever seen roaming the halls or grounds of the palace anymore. He no longer took his meals with others, instead drinking cubes whenever he could in between or during meetings. Cycles stretched on where Prowl would not see him or would not talk to him. 

In the small intervals where Smokescreen was free, Prowl would occasionally catch his optic. He did not dare ask what was discussed, but Smokescreen would assure him, without being prompted, that it was better to keep the situation confidential. It was not an insult towards Prowl or anyone else, it was just better this way. 

Prowl, of course, could not know what that meant. He knew nothing more than the surface level of this political conundrum. But, he chose to trust Smokescreen. His brother had never steered him wrong before. 

* * *

Jazz lay at Prowl’s side, under his arm. The window across the room was open and a cool breeze had settled over them. Behind the helm of the bed, on the other side of the wall, a group of maids were in the sitting room, tidying up. They could hear their soft steps and the scratching of their brooms against the floor. 

Jazz was limp against Prowl. His lover’s berth was so much softer than his own in the barracks. He always recharged better here. 

“I know you said not to, but I can’t help but worry, Jazz,” Prowl said. 

“How come?”

“Smokescreen’s been in and out of meetings constantly.”

“I heard.”

“It seems like they’re preparing for war.”

“Maybe. We don’t know for sure. I haven’t been ordered to prepare our warriors for war, just for protection.”

Of course, if they were preparing for war, they’d tell Jazz, right? They’d have to tell him so he’d know to prepare their soldiers for battle. If they were only preparing for protection, then that means that Praxus still does not intend on engaging the enemy, only on absorbing their attacks. If that’s the case, then Prowl’s arranged bonding stills seems like it’s on the horizon. 

“What should I do if they try to give me away?” Prowl asked. 

Jazz shrugged against Prowl’s side. “Leave.”

“Leave?”

“Mhm. If they start giving you trouble, we’ll leave. Go to Iacon, lay low for a while.”

Prowl was at a loss. He had never thought about leaving Praxus. Actually, the idea was only introduced to him recently when the concept of bonding to a Stanix aristocrat formed. Moving to Iacon could make sense. Jazz is from there, he knows what it’s like. Granted, he was only a youngling, but surely he picked up some skills. Prowl knows he did. One would have to be skilled in order to survive on the streets for as long as he did. They could start new lives there. 

“I don’t know if I can,” Prowl says. “I have it so good here. I’m a prince.”

Jazz rubs his shoulder, already halfway in recharge. “Think about it. 

* * *

No one would meet his optics, Prowl noticed. Not even his own brothers. Smokescreen was in a constant state of exhaustion and hardly ever talked to Prowl or Bluestreak anymore. Prowl was no longer his confidant, and that was what hurt the most. 

On one occasion, Bluestreak had come to him, timid and anxious. Prowl had never seen him in such a state. He asked about the demeanours of the servants, saying they were all acting weird. Guards were tired and maids were wound tight. Council members would not speak to him and no longer roamed around freely. They had formed a clique. 

While Bluestreak relayed this to him, Prowl could not help but feel disappointed. They had never intended for Bluestreak to be caught up in any of this. An even bigger sense of guilt washed over him by the end of his spiel. Prowl realized he could not answer any of his questions for he himself did not know the answer. 

“I really don’t know Bluestreak,” Prowl answered honestly. “I’m sure you’ve heard this a lot already, but I can’t tell you much. I don’t know much of anything. I know that you know there’s a trade war and I’m sure you’ve put it together by now that the tension you feel is caused by that, and I’m pretty sure you’re right. But beyond that, I really don’t know anything else. Smokescreen hasn’t spoken to me.”

“But what about his advisors?”

“They haven’t told me anything either.” Prowl said. “Everything will figure itself out, I’m sure. It’s just a bump in the road. Praxus just went through a shift in power, these sort of things were bound to happen. Try to ignore it as best you can.”

* * *

One evening, Prowl and Jazz were sitting in Prowl’s living area after sharing a meal together. Prowl was reading a book while Jazz lounged in a loveseat. 

There was a knock at the door and Prowl put the book down while Jazz rose to attention. He hurried to the door and opened it to let the messenger inside. 

“The agenda for the next meeting, my Lord,” the messenger said. 

Prowl took the envelope from him and began opening it before he made it out of the room. Jazz closed the door behind him and turned back around to see Prowl already unfolding the paper. He had not been invited to a meeting in decacycles. 

“What’s it say?” Jazz asked. 

The paper crinkled where Prowl held it. His servos locked with tension. Jazz watched him read through the letter and let his digits brush over his shoulder as he did. Without warning, Prowl shoved the letter into Jazz’s chassis and stormed out of the room. 

He trudged through the palace, not stopping until he reached the other side where Smokescreen’s personal wing was. He found his brother in his room, writing at his desk. Smokescreen looked over his shoulder with a meek expression that set Prowl’s circuits even further ablaze. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“The Pit do you mean ‘what’s wrong?’” Prowl cried. “The  _ vote _ ! You’re voting whether or not to send me away!”

Smokescreen hummed and stood up. He stepped towards Prowl until he was standing within arms length of him.

“So they’ve told you,” he said. 

He reached out to touch Prowl’s shoulder. Prowl swatted him away. 

“I’m sorry. I tried to stop this.”

“Didn’t try hard enough!”

“I tried, believe me. They vetoed me. I do not want this either.”

“They’re trying to sell me, Smokescreen.”

“I know it doesn’t look good, but just know that it may not pass. There are advisors who are against it, you still have a chance.”

“I don’t want a  _ chance _ . I want to stay in Praxus.”

“I know. You will, I’m sure of it. But try to stay calm for now. Until the meeting. Don’t get on anyone’s bad side.”

Prowl was silent. 

“Know that I will be voting against this and you can too. And even if the vote passes, there is no certainty that Stanix will accept. For once it’ll be good to accept a rejection.” Smokescreen added a smile at the last part. “I apologize for this. Try to get some rest for the meeting, yes?”

Prowl did not respond and he did not make optic contact. He turned on his heels and walked all the way back to his wing. 

* * *

Jazz was sitting in the living area when he got back. Prowl slumped inside and sat on a couch away from him. He let his lover cool off for a moment before rising to join him. 

He placed a servo between Prowl’s wings. “I read the letter,” he said. Prowl did not respond. “I’m sorry this is happening.”

“I do not want any more apologies,” Prowl said. 

Jazz replied, “Where did you go?”

“To see Smokescreen.”

“What did he say?”

“He apologized. Said there wasn’t anything he could do.”

Jazz knelt next to Prowl, moving his servo to rest on his knee. 

“Remember, I have a plan if this goes south,” Jazz said. “You don’t have to follow through with it if you don’t want to, but it’s worth considering.”

He searched Prowl’s face for a reaction, but found none. It did not matter, he knew he was listening. 

“If this thing passes, we collect our things and leave Praxus.”

“It wouldn’t work.”

“It would. I know how to navigate beyond the palace. We can go to Iacon. It’s big, there are opportunities for us there. We wouldn’t have to leave each other, ever.”

He was right. Jazz was right. He reigned from Iacon, spending the majority of his youth there. Granted, when he was there he did not hold a legitimate profession. He held no social status, had no connections with anyone or anything. 

If Jazz was able to go from being an orphaned street urchin to the personal guard of a prince, then surely he would be able to provide Prowl with a new life in a new land. 

“I don’t know if I could do it. I couldn’t abandon my status. There are mecha who would kill to be in my position.”

“Yeah, but what good is that if they’re sending you away to Stanix to go bond with a stranger.”

He was right, again. Prowl had a choice. He could stay here and lose both his brothers and Jazz. Or he could leave and keep Jazz. 

“I don’t want to make you give up your title,” Prowl said. 

“This title doesn’t mean anything if I’m not able to serve you.”

Prowl cupped Jazz;s chin and pulled him to stand up with him. They were optic to optic now, neither having to strain to meet the other, they were the same height. 

“Your loyalty is staggering. I do not know where I would be without you.”

Jazz smiled. “The same goes for me.”

“Your idea is enticing. If I were to stay here, we would never be able to bond. I would be forced to take a mate eventually. This may be our best chance to stay together.”

“You really want to be with me? Forever, I mean.”

“I do. I cannot imagine anything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :)


	3. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was hard for some reason, don't know why. anyways, hope u enjoy :)))))

Prowl was painfully aware that he was going to make an uninformed decision in today’s meeting. Although he knew that he wanted to remain unbonded in Praxus, a part of him wondered if it would be selfish to vote against the proposition. As a Prince, was it not his responsibility to act in favor of the kingdom?

His mind wrestled with this notion as Jazz fastened his cape and straightened his crown. 

“Ready to go?” he asked when he was done. 

Prowl nodded and followed him to the meeting hall. As usual, there were advisors milling about, talking amongst themselves. Only now, none nodded or bowed in acknowledgment to the Prince’s presence. Prowl paid them no attention, but he could sense Jazz giving them sideways glances under his visor. 

They parted and Prowl went inside alone. He silently took his seat next to Smokescreen. They did not talk. They did not look at each other.

The meeting soon started. The Council assembled around in a circle and waited for one of their members to take to the platform and begin the meeting. 

“We have gathered here today to cast a vote that will determine our future relations with Stanix,” a femme began. “In recent decacycles, our nations have engaged in a trade war. To ease the tension between royal families, it was proposed to offer Prince Prowl of Praxus to a royal family member of Stanix. Doing so would drive these families closer together and would form an alliance between the kingdoms, should Stanix accept. You will find a ballot, envelope, and quill at your desk. Unfold your ballot, cast your votes, and seal them in your envelope.”

Sitting on the desk in front of him were the materials the femme had described. In front of him, there was a burning candle that would be used to seal the ballot. He unfurled his ballot and read the two options.  _ For  _ or  _ against _ . 

The quill was in his servo now. He thought about checking the ‘for’ box. He could almost feel the friction through the quill as he wrote on the paper. Would he be a bad prince if he didn’t vote for this proposition? Was it an act of treason?

No. The Council did this to themselves. He was not their pawn. 

Prowl checked ‘against’ and folded the ballot and slipped it inside the envelope. He took the candle and dripped the wax onto the flap of paper until there was a reasonable puddle. Using the ring on his digit, given to every royal member, he sealed the envelope with his crest and left the ballot on the edge of the desk. The meeting was adjourned once everyone else finished voting and he found Jazz waiting outside for him. 

They did not speak until they were in the safety of Prowl’s wing where Jazz asked, “How did it go?”

Prowl sighed and flopped onto a chair. “I think I’m being voted out.”

Jazz waited a few moments, his expression a sympathetic smile, before saying, “What makes you say that?”

Prowl did not look at him. “I have a feeling.”

Late at night, after Prowl had fallen into recharge, Jazz slipped out of his berth and out the wing. He slunk across the palace and descended down a flight of spiral stairs As he neared, the voices got louder. 

Jazz relieved the guard at the door from duty. Being his superior, the guard did not question him. After the sound of his footsteps disappeared, Jazz was able to concentrate and decipher what was being said in the room at his back. He could hear the shuffling of papers and a susurrus of murmurs. 

“Seems like we won’t have to forge anything by the looks of these ballot results,” a voice said. 

There was a hum of agreement from the others. 

“We’ll have the proposal finalized by nightfall tomorrow,” someone said. “We’ll let the King know in the morning and send off the proposal once he’s read it.”

* * *

The next morning, Jazz appeared at Prowl’s side and informed him of his findings from the night prior. Prowl paced back and forth in his living area. Jazz sat on a chair in front of him, optics following his strained movement. 

“What do you want to do?” Jazz asked. 

Prowl was exhausted despite having just had a full night’s rest. Jazz felt bad about springing this on him first thing in the morning. 

“I don’t know,” Prowl admitted. 

Jazz stood and let his digits brush against Prowl as he passed by, helm still down as he paced. From there, Prowl stopped and allowed Jazz to caress him. 

“If it makes a difference, I’d like to leave,” Jazz said. “I don’t want to work in a kingdom run like this. But I can’t do it without you.”

Prowl reached around himself to touch Jazz’s elbows. “It does matter what you think. I take everything you say into consideration.”

He paused after that. Jazz did not say anything. He wrapped his arms further around Prowl’s middle, a bit difficult given Prowl’s large wings. 

“I don’t know if I would be able to leave my brothers,” he continued. “It’s not like I can take them with me.”

“I think this is a situation where you need to do what’s right for you, not for others.”

Prowl sighed, “I know, but if the kingdom plunges into war and there was something I could have done, I don’t know how I will live with it.”

“I understand, but these advisors are corrupt. If they have no problem going after you now, they will have no problem doing worse in the future. You have to think of your safety.”

Prowl took hold of Jazz’s servos. “I was thinking about that. I don’t know what to do about them, but I am fearful that they have targeted me in such a way.”

“You don’t necessarily need to fight back. It’s ok to flee.”

Prowl laughed a bit. “You really want me to leave, don’t you?”

“I do. If I’m being honest, I do. I wish this wasn’t happening, but at this point, I’m not seeing any other option.”

Prowl squeezed his servo and nodded, more to himself than to Jazz. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I want to.”

“Really?”

“I don’t want to live in a palace run like this. It doesn’t feel good, but I’ll go.”

“I’m glad. I’ll start preparing. I think you’re making the right decision, I really do.”

* * *

The cycles following, Jazz used his every free klik to prepare for the impending departure. He went into town and scavenged the markets in search of things that would be useful. The most important component to their great escape would be new armor. They would both be identified immediately if in their royal garb. 

He also gave Prowl instructions on how to prepare. It was of importance that Prowl gather credits and other items that could be easily sold, traded, or pawned. Since they would have to lay low for a while, they would not be able to hold any stable jobs to gain income and would need to rely on a savings fund to hold them over during the transition. Prowl figured that that shouldn’t be too hard, there were plenty of shiny things around the palace. 

Not only that, but Prowl had access to the treasury and also received an allowance to spend however he pleased. Prowl oftentimes did not buy unneeded things and had saved up a sizable fund. 

They began storing their things underneath Prowl’s berth. Maids rarely, if ever, came into Prowl’s room to clean, so it would be safe there. There were bags of credits, knives, pieces or armor, and sentimental items tucked away.

While both of them were acting carefully to prepare, Prowl knew it was likely not needed. He had not seen Smokescreen since the meeting and Bluestreak hardly spoke to him anymore. Prowl suspected that Bluestreak had learned of the proposition and did not know how to approach it with Prowl. 

Smokescreen never said anything to Prowl, but Prowl was certain that he had been told the results of the vote and did not know how to tell Prowl. Little did he know, he would not have to tell Prowl the results. He would be gone before the proposal is ever sent to Stanix. 

With all that being said, he and Jazz had never been closer. His partner came in every night to lay with him and show him the things he found while in town. Sometimes they would stay up and Jazz would explain their travel plans. Prowl would ask about the city states they would be passing through, having never been to most of them. The castle may be falling apart around him, but Jazz was a constant. 

* * *

Prowl went to his room at a normal time, bidding the maids and servants goodnight before retiring. He stayed in his berth for joors, resting on his side with his optics wide open. 

Jazz came into his room and Prowl rose from his berth. They pulled their things out from hiding and changed out of their old armor and into their new armor. 

Prowl almost did not recognize himself wearing this. There was no added bulk on his chassis or shoulders. It made him look thinner, almost naked. 

“Ready?” Jazz asked. 

Prowl turned around and saw that the same went for Jazz. It almost felt wrong to go outside in this manner. There was no cape behind him and he was light on his pedes.

“Yes.”

Jazz escorted him through the servants' work quarters in the bowels of the palace. The hallways were empty. The walls and floors were not made of the same stone as the rest of the castle and there were no crystal chandeliers on the ceiling. Their path was lit by candles and the floor was barren and cold with its lack of rugs. Prowl had never been to this part of the palace and had to stick close to Jazz to make sure he didn’t get lost. 

When they approached the exit, Jazz hid him in a closet, saying he was going to scout ahead. Prowl was silent as he waited. It felt like forever. 

Finally, the door opened and Jazz offered him his servo. “I relieved the guard at the gate,” he said. “And the horses are waiting for us.”

He led Prowl through the front gates. As Jazz said, there was no one there to question or see them go. They walked a little ways further until descending down a ledge of vegetation to get to their cyber horses hiding at the bottom. 

Jazz had picked the best horses in the stable, Prowl noticed. He recognized these two. Fast and strong and of good stock, the trainer had said. They were already saddled and had bags on their flanks. 

He handed Jazz the things he was carrying and Jazz divided it up between the four bags on the horses. Jazz put most of the valuables on his horse, saying that if someone tried to steal from them, he would be better equipped to handle it. 

They each mounted their horse and Jazz took the front at a walk and led them away from the palace walls. Jazz kept them away from the main roads, saying that the sound of the cyber horses’ hooves on stone could alert those nearby of their presence. 

As the palace dwindled behind them, Prowl would glance over his shoulder to watch it go. Jazz noticed this. 

“Still sure about your decision?” he asked.

Prowl nodded. “Yes.”

They hurried through the outskirts of town at a canter. This agricultural district was littered with livestock and organic life. Prowl’s ankles felt dirty every time he would brush against a plant. 

As they got further and further away, the houses were fewer and far between. There was hardly any light. They pushed their horses into a trot, needing to get away from Praxus before sunlight. Once the palace realized Prowl was missing, they would launch a full-scale search for him. 

They made it out of the city limits a joor before sunrise and turned their sights on Altihex, their first stop on their way to Iacon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long form content is hard. like harder than I thought. i was wondering if you guys like my one shots or longer stories better. if you have an opinion, feel free to let me know so I know what to divert my attention too. idk maybe I'm just bored with this already and want something else lol. writing either is great, and difficult for different reasons so your input is valued :) thanks for reading!!!!!!!!


	4. The Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am posting this v late, but I've been playing bed wars all day so-

They rode all day to Altihex, only stopping occasionally to rest their horses. The horses were strong, Jazz told Prowl, but were not made for long distance rides, but rather for short performances. Though, they would be able to make the trip with no issue, both being young and strong enough for it. 

They stopped mid cycle in a clearing between Praxus and Altihex. The horses grazed and Jazz and Prowl sat on a rock and drank their mid cycle energon. Once they were done, they climbed back onto their horses and finished the trek to Altihex. 

Before entering the city limits, Jazz advised Prowl to keep his helm down. The sun was setting and he was fairly certain that Praxus had begun their search for Prowl. While they could not be certain if word had reached Altihex yet, it was best to play it safe rather than sorry. 

Prowl angled his helm to the ground as they walked their cyber horses through town. The sun was just starting to set over the horizon of rooftops. This part of Altihex was tightly packed with mecha and buildings. The streets were cobblestone and the structures were shingled with walls of brick and stone. 

They stopped at a stone building with a sign that said,  _ ‘Inn’  _ and another one that said,  _ ‘Tavern _ .’ They went around the side where there was a horse stable and mecha working at it. Jazz waved down one of the stablehands and struck up a conversation with him. Prowl watched from a distance as Jazz handed him a few coins from his pocket and turned back to Prowl. 

“We can board the horses here for tonight,” he said. 

They unloaded their bags off the horses and handed the reins to the stablehands. Up front, was the entrance to the inn. Once inside, Prowl was able to relax a little. It was calmer in here, there was no end-of-the-day bustle in this quaint lobby. 

While Jazz bought them a room for the nightl, Prowl turned his back and took in the interior. Above them, there was a small crystal light and around them were crystal torches. They were close enough to Praxus that the asset of crystal lighting could still be enjoyed. There was a wooden staircase to his left that Prowl assumed would lead to their rooms. 

“Ready?” Jazz said with the key in servo. 

“Yes.”

He and Prowl lugged their things up two flights of stairs until finding their numbered room on the top floor. It was made of wood with stone walls. The flooring was laid unevenly and had bumps from the curves of the grain. There was a window on the farthest wall from the door where he could see this chunk of the district from above. In front of the window, there was a bed and at the end of the bed was a mirror and table against the wall. Next to the mirror was the door to the wash racks. 

Prowl decided that he liked this room. It was small, but homely. He had never stayed in a place like this. He wondered how familiar Jazz was with places like these. 

They plopped their things on the mattress and let it tip over. Jazz sat on the edge of the berth and stretched his back. 

“I forgot to ask,” he said. “How many credits did u manage to get?”

“Let me check,” Prowl said. “I’ll pay you back for the room and horses.”

“No, no, it’s ok.” 

Prowl opened the bag with the credits in it and dumped it out of the berth. It was a sizable pile, glittering gold in the fading sunlight. 

Jazz laughed. “Primus Prowl, did you take the whole treasury?”

“No.”

He slapped Prowl on the back and laughed some more. “Prowl, this is a lot. A  _ lot, lot _ .”

“That’s good, right?”

“Of course! We’ll be able to live off of this for a  _ while _ . Can buy a house and then some.”

“Good,” Prowl looked down at the pile. “I didn’t want us to be stretching our funds so early on.”

“Don’t worry about that. We would’ve been fine either way. Help me put this back in the bag. Don’t want anyone seeing it.”

They shoveled the credits back into its bag and stuffed their belongings against the bed, away from the door. 

“I’m going to go see about having a bath,” Jazz said, motioning to the wash racks. “Care to join me?”

Prowl took Jazz’s outstretched servo. “Sure.”

* * *

Smokescreen had started his morning off with a knight bursting into his room while he was still recharging to tell him that Prowl had disappeared. Thinking nothing of it, Smokescreen promised to be there momentarily and dismissed the guard. Prowl had gone on early morning strolls before, usually when he was stressed. The absence would make sense given the circumstances. 

When no maids came in to bring him his morning energon or to run him a bath, Smokescreen put on his armor himself and exited his wing. He was met with the sight of his staff running about and frantically babbling to each other. 

“My Lord!” someone called out. Smokescreen turned and saw one of his advisors speed walking towards him. “My Lord, thank Primus you are awake. There is an emergency that requires your immediate attention.”

“Another one?”

“Yes, but it is not of the same matter as the others. It involves your brother.”

“Prowl? I was told he had disappeared.”

“Correct. Sometime in the night, he vanished. We cannot find him or his knight.”

“Have you checked the garden? He takes walks sometimes.”

“We have. We have looked everywhere, all throughout the palace and its grounds. He is nowhere to be seen.”

Smokescreen deflated slightly at that, but managed to keep his composure. Although they were trying to be sly, he could feel his servants’ optics on him. 

“Check the palace and its ground again, every room and closet. Then come back to me.”

The advisor left and the palace staff got to work. Smokescreen waited anxiously in his sitting room for them to finish and when he heard the knock on his door, he nearly jumped out of his seat. This time, it was a different advisor. 

“We have searched the palace as you instructed, my Lord,” she said. “He is nowhere to be found.”

Smokescreen’s brow furrowed and he stepped out of the sitting room and began walking down the hall. The advisor followed him, looking to him while they walked. 

“When was he last seen?” he asked. 

“Last night, before he retired,” she answered. 

They were walking down the stairs now. 

“Who last saw him?”

“His knight, most likely, but he has vanished as well. Though, there are several other maids and chefs who saw him before that.”

“Speak with them, ask them if anything was amiss.” 

“Yes, my Lord.”

He was at the throne room now. Two guards opened the doors for them as they arrived and inside was a group of advisors who bombarded him with questions as soon as he entered.

“Enough,” Smokescreen said, raising a servo. “I have given her instructions, busy yourselves with that for now, then report back to me.”

The femme was swarmed with her fellow council members. They disappeared in a flurry and finally, Smokescreen was alone again. 

His solitude did now last long, however. The double doors opened again and Bluestreak came flying inside, running straight down the red carpet. 

“Is it true?” he cried. “Is he gone?”

Smokescreen turned to face him fully. “Bluestreak-”

“What happened? You have to tell me what happened!” Tears were welling in his optics. 

“Bluestreak, take a deep vent.”

“No! Not until you tell me what happened!”

“Prowl disappeared last night. We’re working on finding him.”

“Not that! I already know about that. I mean before.”

“Before?”

“Yes! You two have been acting so weird. Something happened, I know it did.”

“Ok, you have a point. The kingdom has been experiencing some difficulties lately and it has been stressful for all of us.”

“Not that! Come on, not that. I already know about all that. What happened between you and Prowl?”

“Nothing happened.”

“ _ Smokescreen _ .”

“I promise you, nothing happened between us. We’re on good terms, we always are.”

“ _ No you’re not _ !” Bluestreak exclaimed. 

He crossed his arms and turned away from Smokescreen. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Smokescreen said. 

“The truth. You know why Prowl’s gone, don’t you?”

“I—” Smokescreen didn’t finish his sentence, knowing he needed to reword it and tread carefully. “I have a hunch.”

“What is it then?”

“It was recently proposed to me by the advisors to offer Prowl as a potential mate to Stanix in exchange for peace.”

“You  _ what _ ?”

“I know it sounds bad—”

“Because it is.”

“But it was for the good of the kingdom. Prowl understands that.”

“Does he? Because it sure sounds like he ran away to avoid being given up to a foreign land. Put the pieces together, it’s obvious why he left.”

Smokescreen inhaled deeply for the first time that cycle, for the first time in a while. 

“He does. He knows I would not do this to him without reason. He also understands that he has a duty to this kingdom and must go through with the bonding if the situation called for it.”

“Is that why he ran away?”

“We do not know Prowl’s intentions—”

“Yes we do. Prowl wouldn’t disappear without reason. Unless he was kidnapped. He wasn’t kidnapped, was he?”

“Well, Jazz is missing as well.”

“Jazz wouldn’t do that. You know that. We both do. Don’t even think about pinning this on him. Prowl ran away, they both did. And he ran away because you tried to sell him. Admit it.”

Bluestreak was speaking out of turn in a way a King should never tolerate, and yet, in a way, Smokescreen knew he deserved this kind of disrespect. At least no one was here to witness it. 

“I will not admit that,” Smokescreen said. “There is no proof. I ask that you refrain from such outbursts in the future and that you return to your room until the search is over. We cannot have another Prince missing.”

“You have to find him, Smokescreen. And when he returns, you can’t give him to Stanix.”

Smokescreen put a servo on Bluestreal’s shoulder. “I am sorry you are so distraught.”

Bluestreak shrugged off the servo and marched out of the throne room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading !!! :)


	5. Jealousy

After spending a cycle recharging in the inn at Altihex, Jazz and Prowl retrieved their cyber horses and saddled up for another ride to Tyger Pax. The ride to Tyger Pax would be long, the longest they would be making on horseback. They would be spending at least one night outside, something Prowl was admittedly nervous for. When asking Jazz about it—what it would be like—Jazz assured him it wouldn’t be intolerable, not during this time of year. He wouldn’t ask him to do it if he thought it would be unbearable. 

With their bags reorganized and horses’ reins in servo, they rode off in the direction of Tyger Pax. Jazz took the lead, compass in servo. There was nothing but flat land ahead of them. 

“You think they’re looking for you?” Jazz asked. 

They were riding at a steady pace now. 

Prowl nodded. “I do. By now they’ve likely searched the palace and have deduced I am not there. I suspect Smokescreen will send out search parties across Praxus to find me. I hope he doesn’t send knights into people’s homes, but if they are desperate enough, they may start delivering search warrants. Once they realize I’m not anywhere in Praxus, I suspect they will branch out to neighboring city states.”

“When do you think that will happen?”

“We have a few cycles, I’m sure. I just hope they don’t broadcast my absence to the public until we’re in Iacon. I have no doubts that mecha will begin moving mountains to find me in hopes of claiming a reward.”

“That won’t happen, I’m sure. Mecha may go looking for you, but they won’t find you. I can make sure of it.”

Prowl smiled at him for a moment before it faded. “Do you think Iacon will be able to hide me?”

“I do. Iacon is massive and there are mecha of all shapes and sizes who live there. We’ll take to the outskirts and get a house and no one will bother us.” He looked down at the horse. “Maybe something with some stables. I originally planned on selling these guys once we got to Iacon, but I’ve gotten a bit attached to them. And with all those credits you snagged, I don’t think we’ll need to.”

“I agree. I think a house on some land would be nice. Though, I admit, I do not know how to care for large plots of land.”

“Ah, neither do I. But we can learn. We’ve got time.”

As the sun began to set, it became too dark for them to safely travel any longer. They dismounted their horses in a clearing and unlatched their bags and took off their bridles to give them some relief. While Prowl got to work arranging their recharge area, Jazz gathered kindling and made a fire. 

Prowl layered and fastened their respective bedding together and made a makeshift berth on the ground. A light chill soon settled over them and Prowl crawled under the blankets while Jazz stoked the fire some more. 

Once it was at a reasonable size, Jazz returned to Prowl’s side with a cube of energon for each of them. They drank from their cubes, sitting up and watching the fire. When they were done, Jazz took the empty cubes and stored them to be thrown away later. 

Prowl shivered as a cool breeze washed over him and Jazz pulled him down into the blankets by the shoulder and settled against his side. Prowl gained a new level of appreciation for Jazz’s warmth. The sun soon fully set and they were bathed in light only from the fire. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Jazz asked. 

Prowl looked above him at the ocean of stars. He nodded. 

* * *

The next day, they rode nonstop to Tyger Pax. From afar, it seemed to be a bit bigger than Praxus or Altihex. The stone pathways were set straighter and the buildings were tighter. 

As they entered, Jazz leaned over and told Prowl he could relax a little, they were far enough away from Praxus that it was unlikely someone would recognize him. They led their horses through the cramped streets until Jazz found another suitable inn and boarded their horses at the stable nearby and walked the rest of the way to the inn. 

This inn was much like the other one, made of wood and stone. Though Prowl would note, this one was decorated with much more detail. There were couches in the lobby with quilts thrown over the back and flowing curtains over the windows. It all added a touch of vibrance to the otherwise drab interior. 

While Jazz paid for their room, Prowl turned to the side and watched people pass by the window. Prowl had never had a chance to observe the average mecha during their day to day life. He watched farmers lug around livestock and merchants negotiate with their customers. There was so much vibrancy happening right outside the window. 

A sharp laugh pulled his attention back to the front of the room. The femme checking them in was laughing. Prowl could not find any clues as to what she was laughing at, but it would be safe to assume that it was something Jazz said. He had that effect on people. 

Prowl was about to direct his attention back to the window, before something caught his optic. The femmes dainty servo was resting on Jazz’s as he was hunched over on the counter, filling out a piece of paper. Prowl was struck with shock. A bolt of violence flew through him and he wanted to tear her digits off. 

To his relief, Jazz removed his servo out from under hers and passed her the paper. During the remainder of the transaction, Prowl watched Jazz’s digits with a furious intensity. 

The innkeeper gave them their room number and directions and he and Jazz gathered their things. As they climbed the stairs, the femme told them to enjoy their stay and waved vigorously at them. 

Prowl did not say anything as they walked to their room. His mouth may have been silent, but his mind was anything but. He cursed the femme at the front desk with every word in his vocabulary. 

Who does she think she is? Her behavior was down right vulgar. Could she not tell that they were together? No. No, she had to have known. Right? Maybe it was just a spectacle, a spectacle designed to insight jealousy in Prowl’s spark. It was working. She was damn good at it. 

Jazz unlocked the door and let them both in. They set their bags on the floor and Jazz began wandering around the room with a smile. Prowl crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the berth, brooding, but not yet aware that that’s what he appeared to be doing. 

His lover returned from the washracks, where he had been inspecting the shower, and saw him hunched in on himself. 

“What’cha thinkin’ about?” Jazz asked.

Prowl’s helm flicked upward. “Nothing.”

“Come on, it’s got to be something,” Jazz persisted. “It’s never ‘nothing’ when you’ve got that face.”

“I just didn’t like the femme downstairs.”

“Who? The receptionist?”

“Yes, I didn’t like the way she behaved around you.”

Jazz leaned against the doorway of the washracks. “Ah, was it the servo thing?”

“ _ Yes _ . And the laughing, and the looks, and the way she waved at us as we went up the stairs.”

Jazz hummed. “Hm. Hadn’t seen her when we walked up the stairs. But I’m sorry it hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt. I’m just,” Prowl said. “I had not anticipated that I would have to share you.”

Jazz gave him a soft smile and moved to sit beside him on the berth. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but I’m afraid there’s not much we can do about this situation. Out in the world, mecha are going to do a lot of things you don’t like. And I know that sounds obvious, but I think mecha have been tip toeing around you all your life. You’ve never been taught how to handle something like this. But don’t worry, it’ll get better. You’ll learn how to cope.”

Prowl touched his servo. “I hope you’re right.”

* * *

The next day, Jazz asked Prowl to come with him to market. “It’ll be good for you to see how a town functions. It might help you integrate once we get to Iacon, “ he said. 

Prowl agreed and followed him downstairs. Upon getting outside, he was almost stunned by the amount of movement in the square. The citizens worked like a well oiled machine, mecha going about their morning routines around each other, but never bothering or hindering those around them. Mecha had set up stands around the square and down the streets, never blocking store fronts. Some hollered and others haggled. 

Jazz locked his arm around Prowl’s elbow, saying they didn’t want to be separated. Prowl agreed, after walking for only a few kliks, he had already lost the inn. 

Together, they wandered up and down the stalls. There was energon made into forms Prowl had never seen before. If they hadn’t been trying to save their credits, Prowl would have been tempted to buy some. 

There were bins of spare parts, bits and bobs neither of them recognized. Livestock were herded around by their handlers or kept in pens to be bought. Prowl wondered if Praxus looked and functioned like this too. 

As they turned around to head back to the inn, Jazz turned to him and said, “See anything you like?”

Prowl looked around. It was all far too overwhelming to be able to pick something he wanted. “No.”

They walked a bit further and passed a medical clinic, the only building on the block that did not have its windows and doors open trying to sell something. Jazz stopped and took it in. 

“Think we should buy some medical supplies off them?”

Prowl followed his gaze. “I don’t think so. We won’t need it, we’re both healthy, right?”

They made their way back to the inn and spent the rest of the day resting up for the next leg of their trip. That night, Prowl and Jazz lie in the berth, barely awake. Their face plates were smashed together and they kissed under the blankets until finally falling into recharge. 

* * *

There was a barrage of ‘ _ my lord _ ’s and  _ ‘your majesty _ ’s as soon as Smokescreen walked in the door. He stood there for a moment, in the doorway, and let their shouts wash over him. The advisors before him were frantic, optics bright with exhaustion and panic. They were fairing almost as poorly as he was, though it was for another reason entirely. 

He sat at the helm of the table, his advisors towered over him despite Smokescreen’s superior height. They were all so tightly wound, he doubted any of them would be capable of sitting. 

“My lord,” one of them said. “We must enact a lockdown on the kingdom. It will prevent the Prince from finding a new hiding place or leaving the kingdom’s parameters. It will force him to come out.”

Before Smokescreen could get a word in, another advisor chipped in. “We do not know if he is in hiding. There is a chance his knight has kidnapped him and has already taken him across the border.”

“ _ Or _ the Prince could have left willingly with his knight. There is no evidence yet that he is still in Praxus.”

Smokescreen raised a servo, effectively silencing the advisors. After letting them sit in silence for a moment, Smokescreen began, “There will be no martial law, nor will we lock out gates, nor will we search our citizens’ homes. Prowl left on his own accord and he will return by it. I have decided that we will be sending word or Prowl’s absence to a group of select kingdoms I deem trustworthy. Iacon, Tyger Pax, Vos, Uraya, Kalis and Altihex have all proven to be worthy allies and will do good with this information. If Prowl does not appear after notifying these kingdoms, we will turn to the people to help us in our search.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was difficult to put up ill be honest. i don't know why, but I've always had difficulty with long-form content and editing. this fic has certainly tested those boundaries. for that reason, updates will most likely be few and far between. i do still intend on finishing this, but I think I'm a bit discouraged by how it's turned out. its alright, just not as great as I wanted. anyways, hope u enjoy :)


	6. Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy this ones a bit short, but it kinda has to be

Kalis was more of a pit stop than a city-state. It was recognized as a city-state, but was by far the smallest province in the hemisphere. Upon arrival, they followed their usual routine of finding an inn and boarding their cyber horses. 

The next morning, they went out into the market, Jazz saying they should begin to stock up on personal items before making it to Iacon. They would likely have to board a room before buying a place of their own. Since they would have to lay low while, it would be best to be prepared so they weren’t showing their faces during the day. 

Hoping to get an idea of this small city’s goods, they walked to the bulletin in the square and surveyed what was posted. There was a piece of paper in the center of the board. It was written in a bold, scholarly font. “ _ Prince Prowl of Praxus Declared Missing _ ,” it read. In a smaller font underneath the header, there were details about the disappearance and a reward amount.

Jazz took Prowl by the shoulders and whirled him around so they were facing the other direction. He took him by the elbow and towed him back to the inn. Prowl turned his face away, hiding against Jazz. From an outsider’s perspective, the sight must have been odd, but no one appeared to notice or say anything. 

They clambered up the stairs and stumbled into their tiny room where Prowl collapsed onto the berth and Jazz locked the door. 

“Someone’s going to see me, if they haven’t already. They’ll know who I am.” Prowl rambled. 

“It’s fine. There wasn’t a picture of you on the flyer. No one here knows what you look like.”

“Yes, but they’ll be motivated by that reward. We should leave now. It’s not safe.” Prowl stood and grabbed his things.

“Prowl,  _ please _ ,” Jazz grabbed his wrists and lowered them to the ground to encourage him to put down the bags. “No one is going to find you here, okay? Those flyers were just put up. It’ll be a while before mecha get serious about finding you, if at all. And Kalis is small, there aren’t a lot of mecha here to organize a search party for you anyways. Right now, this is exactly where we need to be. Making rash decisions is going to be our downfall.”

Prowl chose to believe him. HIs digits loosened and he let his belongings fall to the ground. He had trusted Jazz to lead him this far, he would not steer him wrong now. 

Jazz’s servo moved to his shoulder. “It’ll be fine. We’ll leave Kalis, go to Polyhex, and it’ll be a straight shot from there. We’re close.”

Prowl stood up and they hugged in silence. 

“If we are caught, they may think you forced me into this, that you kidnapped me,” Prowl said. 

“I thought about that too.”

“If we’re caught, I’ll say it was my idea. I’ll say I forced you.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I do. I won’t be punished if I take responsibility. Neither of us will be. I would never betray you like that.”

* * *

They left early in the morning the next cycle. Jazz cut their stay short and asked the mech working the lobby for a refund on the night they would not be staying there. After getting their credits and cyber horses, they were off in the direction of Polyhex. 

They rode their horses at a steady gallop. Once they were a good distance away, they held their horses at a trot and made it to Polyhex in record time. Prowl wished the ride was longer. 

Polyhex was large, not as large as Tyger Pax, but still sizable. Jazz was comforted by the hoards of mecha while Prowl was put on edge by it. 

Prowl kept a firm hold on Jazz’s arm as they made their way through the city and to an inn. When they arrived at their room, Prowl went to the window and instead of gazing out of it like he usually did, he tugged the curtains shut and hunkered down. 

Jazz appeared behind him, putting a servo on his back. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as we’re in Iacon.”

Jazz smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re in the last leg of the trip. We should be in Iacon as soon as tomorrow night.”

Prowl watched the sun fall from where he was seated on the berth. The room grew dark and jazz lit the oil lamp by the door. 

“I’m going to head out and get us some energon for the evening. Will you be ok?” Jazz said. 

Prowl looked to his partner and said, “I’ll be fine.”

Jazz left with a servo full of credits. The door closed behind him and Prowl listened to his steps disappear down the hallway.

Once he was certain Jazz was gone, Prowl hopped off the berth and began pacing around the room. He couldn’t help himself. He was full of anxiety, it had nowhere to go. He had not been alone since leaving the palace and now he was alone in a foreign city state without his knight while entire nations of mecha were looking for him. 

But surely Jazz wouldn’t leave him alone if he thought they were in real danger. Jazz had taken an oath to protect him and upheld it even after renouncing his title. 

Although the outside was motionless, Prowl could practically hear the sound of someone clambering up the stairs and ripping the door open. Their servos would bind his wrists and they would drag him out of his room and back to Praxus. 

Or better yet, they would rob him and take him for their own devices. Since those notices went up, mecha would know that there was a prince on the loose. He would be prime real estate for a robbery or kidnapping. Jazz would not know where to find him and when Praxus finally found Jazz, Prowl’s captors could frame him for the disappearance. 

He passed by the door again. Maybe he should go after Jazz. Surely, he hadn’t gone far. It might be safer to find him and stick together. 

The doorknob clicked and turned and the vice grip on Prowl’s throat had tightened so far, he was certain he would choke. But when the door opened, he saw that it was just Jazz. He was holding two cubes and gave a shy smile upon seeing Prowl. 

“You alright?” he asked. 

“Yes, yes,” Prowl said. “Just thinking.”

Jazz handed him his cube and they each took a seat on either side of the berth to drink their energon. Some of the other rooms they had stayed in had a small table with chairs to drink at. This one did not. 

“I wish that flyer had not been posted,” Prowl finished his thought. 

“Yeah, me too. But we expected it, it makes sense that they’d be looking for you.”

“The Council is likely furious.”

“Probably, but try not to think about them anymore. We left to get away from them.”

“I know.”

“We’re going to make it to Iacon, don’t have any doubts about that. I’ve traveled through much tougher conditions. We’ll make it.”

“I know, I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading :))))


	7. Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy this one is a bit short, but I think you'll see why

Prowl wished he could have stayed longer in Polyhex, having only seen a few blocks of the city, but he knew that leaving as soon as possible was for the best. If their plan was executed correctly, they would be able to come back anytime they wanted. 

They slowed their horses to a walk after disappearing from Polyhex’s view. Jazz said it was a short ride to Iacon and there was no point in hurrying to get there now. They would be hunkered down in a rented room until the search died down, so it was best to enjoy their time outdoors. 

Prowl was roused from his thoughts when Jazz pulled his cyber horse to a halt. He followed suit and waited for Jazz’s signal. 

“Is everything alright?” Prowl asked. 

Jazz nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

They kept going at Jazz’s approval. They did not make it far. 

A cacophony of daggers rained down on them. Their horses bucked and squealed. Jazz shouted something Prowl could not hear. Whatever it was, it did not matter because Prowl fell to the ground as his cyberhorse whinnied. He fell on his back, flat on his doorwings. They flared in pain.

Jazz swore and dismounted his horse. But before he could reach Prowl, two mecha blocked his path and another two hooked their arms under Prowl’s shoulders. Their servos were on Jazz now, around his torso and his arms and his shoulders. One mecha pulled a knife and held it to Prowl’s neck. Jazz’s spark jolted and he lunged forward. 

His captors lost their grip for a klik, but quickly regained it. In retaliation, they shoved Jazz to the ground and fell on top of him. Their servos were on each shoulder and wrist. His upper half was incapacitated, but Jazz used his legs to push against the ground, trying to gain some sort of leverage. When that didn’t work, he curled in at the torso and tried wedging a pede onto one of their chassises to kick them away. They were much rougher with Jazz than with Prowl, knowing who had combat training and who didn’t. 

Prowl called out for him and for a split second, Jazz stopped and lifted his helm. He was rigid under the knife’s blade, not daring to test its wielder’s patience. But in that moment of stillness, his captors took the advantage and drove a blade into his shoulder. 

Jazz’s cry made Prowl’s spark run cold. 

With a fit of adrenaline, Jazz shook his other shoulder free and went for the blade strapped to his thigh. He stabbed the closest captor. Jazz could not be sure where he hit him, but he knew it had to have been good judging by the shouts. 

Before Jazz could rise, he was elbowed in the helm. Energon spurted from his gash, his nasal ridge no doubt dented. There was then a searing pain, much worse than his other injuries, in the side of his torso. They had stabbed him. 

There was a commotion amongst these criminals now. They yelled at each other to hurry up. The injured one grit their teeth and focused their attention on holding Jazz down. The fight had left Jazz’s frame, he was losing energon and his helm felt light. 

Prowl had a front-row seat of the chaos. Jazz was bleeding out before him and just beyond that, a thief raided his cyber horse. Aside of that, another wrangled Prowl’s horse and tied him to their own herd of cyber horses. 

His processor was blank. He had never experienced such internal nothingness. Prowl always knew what to do, or at least had an idea. But now, there was nothing. This is not what a knight would do. This is not what Jazz would do. This is what a cowardly prince, who left his kingdom in their time of need, would do. 

The captors released Jazz and returned to the herd and mounted their horses. Prowl’s captors dropped the knife and backed away, never taking their optics off him. He did not move, kept his optics trained on them like they did to him. 

They mounted their horses and took off in the direction of Polyhex, Prowl’s cyber horse among them. 

Once he was certain they would not be coming back, Prowl dashed for Jazz. He cradled his limp frame against his own. Jazz was gushing energon. 

“Jazz, Jazz, frag, Jazz,” Prowl muttered. 

His lap was soaked with energon. Most of it was coming from the wound on Jazz’s side. Prowl feared they had hit a major organ. But then again, if they had, wouldn’t Jazz already be offline by now? His biolights were still glowing, so Prowl knew he was online, just in stasis. 

He shifted Jazz in his grasp a little, so he could better see the wound. The severed lines were visible, the metal sharp and jagged. Prowl had little to no medical training, but knew what had to be done. 

He looked to the horse, Jazz’s, the one the thieves hadn’t taken. All that was left on it was a saddle and reins. They had been so stupid. Even if their things hadn’t been taken, he still wouldn’t have had anything to patch Jazz with. 

Prowl laid Jazz down on the ground, careful not to get any dust in his wounds. With his bare digits, Prowl pinched the gaping energon lines to stop the bleeding. It hurt, the exposed metal was sharp and left dents on the tips of his digits. He was glad Jazz was unconscious. If it hurt for him, it would be unbearable for Jazz. 

He crimped off the rest of the lines in Jazz’s other wound, but left his helm alone. By the end of it, Prowl’s servo was drenched in energon.

Jazz’s horse was grazing a ways away. Prowl wiped his digits on his leg and put the tips on his lip to whistle. The horse raised its helm and Prowl whistled again. As the horse trotted over, Prowl opened the bag strapped to his hip and took inventory on what was in it. There was a journal, his crown, and ring. 

Mulling it over in his helm, Prowl figured he should be able to pawn off the crown or ring in exchange for credits or medical service. It might take a while to find a buyer who could give them what they needed, especially with Prowl’s naivety, but it could be done. 

But beyond that, if he went into a city state with his crown and ring, someone was bound to recognize him. And if they saw the disgraced Prince of Praxus wandering around the streets with his injured knight, they would surely be taken into custody. 

Prowl glanced down at Jazz. The bleeding had slowed, for now. He would not last long like this. 

  
He knew what had to be done. 

Prowl slipped the ring onto his digit and placed the crown on his helm. They fit perfectly. They had been waiting. 

Although it was difficult, Prowl managed to hoist Jazz onto the cyber horse and then boost himself up. The lingering adrenaline rush gave him the extra bit of strength he needed. He situated himself on the horse with Jazz in between his legs, leaning on his chassis. He headed towards Iacon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> future chapters will be longer. pls let me know what u think!!!! (and if you like longer form content like I'm trying to attempt lol)


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